


Beyond the Shadows

by PuffleHuff90



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Ghosts, Harry Potter Next Generation, Ouija
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:40:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27321346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PuffleHuff90/pseuds/PuffleHuff90
Summary: Albus and Scorpius find something strange in the Malfoy study. Thinking it harmless, they sit down for a game and get more than they bargained for.
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween! I wrote this last minute to celebrate the holiday. I may continue it... we'll see. Hope you enjoy!

"He's not going!" 

Harry Potter's voice rang out of the upstairs bedroom in a very Dursleyish tone. He was standing with his hands planted firmly on his hips, eyebrows raised as he stared pointedly at the woman across the mattress in front of him. She glanced up briefly at him with a disapproving look and then continued folding the towel in her hands. Harry, however, would not be deterred. 

"Don't look at me as if I'm overacting," he ranted on. "No child of mine will ever step foot in that damned manor." 

"Keep your voice down," Ginny hissed, her brown eyes darting to the open door. "I understand why, Harry, I do, but Al is…"

"Al is thirteen! He's not responsible enough to make his own decisions." 

"You let Scorpius stay here this summer," Ginny countered. She pulled another towel from the pile and folded it until it matched the others in the growing stack. "He's been nothing but polite." 

"Scorpius is a nice kid," agreed Harry as he leaned forward to rest his hands on the edge of the bed. "but that doesn't change who his family is and what happened at that house he lives in." 

"Then why did you speak on Draco's behalf at his hearing?" Ginny's lips pulled into a knowing smirk but her attention didn't move from the laundry pile before her. 

Harry pursed his own lips and returned to full height. He let his arms cross over his chest as he fought back the urge to rise to the bait. While it was true that he had felt compelled to speak at Draco and Narcissa's hearings, he wasn't completely comfortable with any of his kids befriending Malfoy's son. It had taken quite a bit of begrudging arguments with himself to overlook his own prejudice. 

"Malfoy was a git, there's no denying that, but…" Harry faltered as his pride choked the words back down his throat. Shaking his head, he rolled his eyes to the ceiling and sighed deeply. "But they didn't deserve to spend their lives in Azkaban." 

Ginny, abandoning her chores, rounded the bed and slipped her arms around Harry's torso, forcing him to wrap his own arms around her. Her hands rubbed his back comfortingly as she rested her head against his warm chest, his heart beating rhythmically in her ear. 

"It's only a week, dear," she said quietly, her soft voice somehow cooling Harry's nerves. "Scorpius needs Al more than ever right now. I can't imagine what he's going through." 

Kissing the top of her head, Harry buried his face in her bright red hair. The sweet smell of flowers chased away the arguments that rose to his lips and, despite his hesitance, he nodded. He knew exactly what the Malfoy boy was going through and there was only one way to describe it; hell. Without Hermione and Ron, Harry would have never been able to cope with the loss of Sirius, and now Scorpius needed that kind of friendship. He needed Al to be there while he dealt with the pain of losing his mother. 

"I can," Harry whispered into Ginny's hair.

**********************************************

Albus Potter stood gazing up at the large oak doors of Malfoy Manor, a green rucksack tossed casually over his left shoulder. His eyes traveled along the red brick house face spanning before him, mouth agape as he tried to fathom just how big the inside might be. He knew the Malfoy's had a significant amount of gold, but he had never pictured their home being so massive. 

A hand grasped his shoulder, pulling him from his reverie. His father stood beside him, a look of unease knitting his dark brows together. In the distance a soft roll of thunder threatened another round of summer storms that evening. A gust of warm wind blew in the smell of fresh rain, pushing back the mess of black hair from Al's forehead.

"You alright, Al? We can just go home if you want," Harry asked, barely hiding the hopefulness in his voice. 

Albus looked up into his father's worried face and gave him a reassuring grin. "Dad, I'll be fine. Promise." He added the last word quickly, cutting off his father's protest. 

With a defeated sigh, Harry reached out a hand and rapped the brass serpent knocker against the plate with two sharp strikes. Al shifted his weight nervously from one foot to the next, anxiety rising in the pit of his stomach until it felt like a thousand butterflies were thrashing around inside him. The idea of staying with the Malfoy's now seemed like an absurd idea, but before he could confess this to his father, the doors opened wide. 

Standing in the entrance, hands held sophisticatedly behind his back, was a platinum blonde man with eyes of cold steel. His disapproving gaze lingered only momentarily on Albus before turning to his father. Thin lips were forced into a polite, though lopsided, smile that didn't quite reach those pale eyes. 

"Mr. Potter," Draco Malfoy said formally without extending a welcoming hand. 

Harry shifted slightly, and Al could see the unease in his stance transition into dislike as he too forced a smile. For a moment, Albus thought he wouldn't bother to answer, but slowly his father pried apart his gritted teeth.

"Mr. Malfoy," he responded curtly, and then his shoulders slumped and an indiscernible look overtook his face. "I am sorry to hear about your wife." 

The words held genuine empathy, and for a moment Mr. Malfoy's smug composure was gone. His eyes slid to the door frame where he seemed to study the intricate grain of the wood intently before nodding his thanks. Al looked away quickly, feeling as though he were intruding on a private moment.

"Albus!" 

An excited voice rang from inside the foyer and Al looked up in time to see Scorpius skidding to a stop next to his father. Side by side there was no denying the uncanny similarities the father and son held in appearances. From the slick blonde hair to the grey eyes, the Malfoy genes had definitely been the dominant.

"Hello, Mr. Potter," Scorpius said breathlessly and, wasting no time, grabbed Albus by the hand and pulled him into the manor leaving the former enemies to sort out the details without them.

"It's about time," complained Scorpius once they were out of earshot.

"I'm lucky to be here at all," Al retorted as they mounted the grand staircase and made a left turn onto the balcony that overlooked the foyer. "Mum and dad had a row about me coming this morning." 

"Bet I can guess who was on which side."

Albus gave a short grunt, too busy taking in the vast rooms to give a proper response. They had made another turn and were now walking down a wide corridor with rooms jutting off on each side. Above their head lanterns lit their path, each swinging softly in the soft draft that came from an open window at the end of the hallway; their shadows danced across the floor in the flickering light. 

"We're in the west wing," Scorpius said apparently aware of Albus's awestruck silence. "All the bedrooms are on this side. We'll drop your stuff off and go down for dinner. After that, I have something cool to show you in the study. It's on the bottom east..." 

A man stepped out from a bedroom on the left, cutting Scorpius off as they came to a sudden stop. He was an older man, but there was no need to ask for introductions. Albus felt his stomach turn as he stared up into the face of Lucius Malfoy. Time had been good to Malfoy Sr. His hair was still long, though slightly more silver than blonde now, his eyes were as sharp as ever, however. He glared down at Al not bothering to hide the disgust that wrinkled his nose as though he had smelled something foul. 

"Grandfather, this is…" 

"I know who this is," Lucius said smoothly. He pulled the door to his room closed and then turned to face the boys with a smirk. "I never thought I'd see the day. Do you know what happened to the last Potter that was under this roof?" 

Albus felt Scorpius stiffen next to him, but he didn't look away from the eldest Malfoy; instead, he let his own smug smile form on his lips. "From what I hear you let him escape," said Al cooley. 

Lucius's eyebrows rose in surprise but the smile remained. "Well well, unlike your father it would appear you have a backbone. Maybe that's why you're in Slytherin." 

"We're just putting Al's thing up before dinner," Scorpius interjected quickly. His fingers dug into Al's arm as he tried to steer him away. 

Stepping aside, Lucius flourished a hand for them to pass, however, as they walked away he grabbed Albus tightly by the shoulder. "I'd watch that tongue while you're in my home," he hissed threateningly. 

Before he could even fathom a reply, Scorpius pulled him away towards the nearest door and shoved him inside. When Al turned to look at him, he was red-faced and staring sheepishly at the floor. 

"I'm sorry," Scorpius muttered without looking up. "I thought he'd be a little more civil now that…" 

"Don't worry about it," scoffed Al offhandedly. He had turned to survey the room and was shocked to see just how massive it was. A large four-poster bed with a green canopy was pushed against the opposite wall, a large wardrobe directly beside it. Bookshelves lined the wall at the other end of the room with a writing desk in front of them. The remaining walls were littered with qudditch banners and a large Slytherin flag. 

Dropping his bag to the floor with a thump, Al walked over to the bookshelves and examined the leather spines carefully. The Malfoys had been notorious for dealing in dark magic and artifacts, and secretly Albus was hoping they still had a few lying around. The unknown had always intrigued him though he had no desire to actually use them. 

"There's more books down in the study," came Scorpius' voice from near the door. "We can go there after we eat. Hopefully, dinner will be uneventful." 

Scorpius got his wish. Dinner passed without incident, in fact, there had been little talking at all. Lucius was nearly finished by the time Al and Scorpius entered the dining room and with a glare, he had excused himself as they sat down. Draco ate in silence as his pale eyes skimmed the Daily Prophet. Occasionally, when their voices got too loud, he would glance in their direction with a piercing look of reproach. 

As soon as their plates were empty, they hurried across the foyer in the direction of the study. Albus was not disappointed. Inside the vast room were rows upon rows of ceiling-high bookcases all full of old leather-bound books and various antique-looking items. One shelf held nothing but daggers with jewel-encrusted handles, another held viles of different colored liquids. 

"Over here," Scorpius called from an elegant couch in front of an open fireplace. Despite being the middle of summer, a fire burned bright in the grate, it's warm light casting shadows around the room. Outside night had fallen and darkness was pouring through the tall windows that lined the south wall. Occasionally a flash of lightning illuminated the lawns beyond the veranda, a soft roll of thunder following in its wake. 

Intrigued by the box Scorpius was now holding, Al sat himself opposite the couch in a high back chair. He watched as his friend placed it on the tea table between them and opened the lid, revealing a board with the entire alphabet and a row of numbers. Al recognized it immediately and with a roll of his eyes, he fell back into his chair with an exasperated huff. 

"What," Scorpius asked, his excitement deflating a little.

"It's a ouija board," Al said but when Scorpius continued to look at him baffled he explained. "It's a muggle party game. They use it to 'talk with spirits'." 

Scorpius's brows furrowed in confusion. "So, it doesn't actually do anything?" 

Al shrugged his shoulders. "As far as I know, no, but I don't know why your family would have one." 

"How does it work?" Scorpius set the board on the table and examined the planchette, turning it over in his pale fingers.

Sitting forward on the edge of the chair, Al took the triangle from his hand and set it down in the middle of the board. "You put your fingertips on the edges," he said demonstrating with his own hands. Scorpius mirrored him, glancing up for approval. "Yeah, just don't push down on it. Now we ask a question and the ghost is supposed to move the triangle around to spell out an answer." Al whirled the planchette in a circle to give an idea of how it should move. 

A rumble of thunder filled the empty space as Scorpius studied the board with interest. Al watched as the boy's eyes swept across the letters, his lips drawing to the side in a thoughtful expression.

"Let's give it a try," Scorpius said suddenly. His face filled with excitement as he looked up at Al. 

Al snarled his nose but at the sight of Scorpius's pleading face, he conceded. "Alright," he said with a sigh, and Scorpius's grin broadened. 

Resting his fingers lightly on his side, Al pushed the planchette around once more. He had no real hopes of anything happening, after all, it was just a game to scare muggles, but he couldn't deny the atmosphere sent a chill up his spine. 

"Is anyone there?" Albus cringed at how ridiculous the words sounded in the empty room. He glanced at Scorpius, but he was staring transfixed at the board between them. Sighing internally, Al let the silence overtake them for a few minutes before speaking again.

"Is anyone here with us?"

The fire in the hearth sputtered as a gust of wind roared down the chimney. For a moment the room dimmed as the fire fought to remain ablaze. Al jumped but it was the slow movement of his hands that sent his pulse into a flutter. His eyes flicked to Scorpius, but the boy was staring wide-eyed at their moving hands. 

The planchette came to rest on the word 'yes' at the top left-hand corner. Licking his lips, Al shook his head in disbelief. 

"Very funny, Scorp," he grumbled.

"I swear it's not.." but before Scorpius could finish the planchette slid across the board, stopping on letters at random. Finally, it came to stop in the middle of the board once more. 

"Are…are you a good spirit?" 

The planchette took off immediately as Scorpius read aloud. "D-E-P-E-N-D-S. Depends?" He looked to Al, his forehead wrinkled in confusion. 

Al swallowed hard, the fun of the game suddenly gone. An uneasy feeling had settled deep in the pit of his stomach and he couldn't shake the chill that seemed to have seeped into the room. "I think we should stop," he said hesitantly. 

Their hands shot up to the word 'no' and the doors to the study slammed with a bang that reverberated around the tall ceiling. Both boys jumped to their feet, staring wildly around at the closed doors. Al's heart was hammering violently against his ribcage; a wild drum beating tempolessly in his ears. Part of him still wanted to believe that Scorpius was behind this, but judging from the pale face he was just as terrified as Al felt.

"A...Al?" 

Al whirled in time to see the planchette moving across the board unassisted. 

"S-E-E-M-E," Scorpius repeated. "Seem E? See me?" 

Over Scorpius's shoulder, Al caught a glimpse of movement. His breath quickened as a shadow rose slowly from behind the couch until it was looming over Scorpius; a dark shapeless mass. The scream caught in his throat as the candles around the room extinguished with a rush of cold air, plummeting them into complete darkness. 

Something cold and sharp pressed uncomfortably against Al's windpipe, freezing all movements. His eyes focused on Scorpius's vague outline sitting across from him and he could see his head turning from side to side in bewilderment. A flash of lightning illuminated the room, and Scorpius's eyes fell on Al, mouth agape. 

"I wouldn't move," a voice said, coming directly beside Al's left ear. It was high and cold, sending gooseflesh rippling across Al's entire body. "The edge is rather sharp. I would hate to see you stain the rug." 

"W-w-what do you want," Scorpius stuttered. Even in the dim light, Albus could see him shaking in terror. 

A soft chuckle sent a cold wave across Al's cheek. "I thought Malfoy's were known for their bravery. However," the knife pressed into Al's skin and he couldn't repress the whimper that rose up his throat. "I also thought Malfoy's despised the Potters. Yes, there is no mistaking you. Spitting image of your father." 

Al shifted uncomfortably in his chair and the hot pull of flesh against steel stilled his movements. "Now now, I think I told you to be still," the voice said, amusement seeping from its words. Albus clenched his eyes shut, fear overtaking every sense in his body. "That's better. Now that I have your attention, I need you two to help me find something." 

"What's that," Al asked through gritted teeth, trying to sound braver than he felt. 

"A body," came the simple reply.


	2. Chapter 2

"To be more precise, one of yours; temporarily of course, " the cool voice continued before either boy could begin to fathom an answer to the strange request. 

"There's no way in…" Al bit back the crude response as the dagger pressed deeper into his skin, a thin line of crimson beading up along its sharp edge. 

"Let me explain what will happen if you finish that sentence, Mr. Potter. First, I'll slit your throat. It matters not to me whether you live or die here tonight. Yes, it will set me back a month or so, but I have nothing but time on my hands these days." 

The calmness in which the words were spoken sent a violent shiver down Al's spine. It was as if they were discussing the weather and not the likelihood of him being bled out on the rug. 

"Now, imagine if you will, tomorrow morning's headlines in the Prophet. A Potter murdered at Malfoy Manor? Oh yes, that is front page material. And who do you suppose will be blamed?" 

At these words, Scorpius stiffened. His family, already under so much scrutiny from the ministry, would be drug back into the spot light. Yes, a story like that would be the end of them. They would all be locked away in Azkaban, or worse; he was sure his father would make certain of it. 

"Fine," Scorpius said with a forced calmness that was easily detected. "I'll do it."

"No, Scorpius wait just…" 

It was to late. The pressure at Al's neck was suddenly gone and in the dim light he could see Scorpius's body become rigid. His pale face was twisted into a tight grimace and his hands were clinched into fists at his side. Al rushed to grab him, but the boy suddenly went limp, collapsing to the rug like a rag doll. 

"Scorp," cried Al, dropping to his knees beside his friend's lifeless form. Heart pounding painfully against his ribs, he reached out a hand but then recoiled, afraid of what his touch might do. He momentarily thought of yelling for help, maybe Mr. Malfoy could do something, but before he could even comprehend the stupidity of that thought, Scorpius's eyes sprang open. 

The boy sat up and stretched out his arms before him, examining them with a sweep of his pale eyes. He stood, running both hands down either side of his narrow frame as if it were the first time he had ever seen himself properly. A twitch pulled at the corners of his thin lips and with another fork of lightning Al saw a victorious smile spread across his friend's face. 

"Scorpius?" His words were tentative; hoping but already knowing what awaited him. Those familiar grey eyes met his but there was something entirely different behind them now. 

"What's wrong, Al," Scorpius asked mockingly. He patted his clothes again, this time in search of something, and withdrew a slender wand from his back pocket. With a simple flick of the wrist a fire sprang back into the grates, lighting the room in a warm dancing glow. 

"Y-you can't…" 

"Use magic?" Scorpius laughed, an unfamiliar cold chuckle. "The perks of growing up in a pure-blood home. The ministry has no idea who is actually using magic." 

He crossed the room to fireplace and stood in front of the roaring flame, splaying his hands to the warmth."It does feel wonderful to have a body again," he said softly. 

"What about Scorpius," Al asked hesitantly, sinking into the high-back chair he had previously abandoned. He suddenly felt tired and his brain seemed incapable of processing what was happening.

"Oh, he's fine," he assured. "Just taking a backseat roll if you will." 

The slightest amount of relief cooled Albus's nerves. Scorpius was okay. Leaning back into the cushioned seat, he let his gaze travel to the ouija board on the tea table. "How…" The question lodged in his throat as a million more flooded his mind. 

"How is this possible?" Scorpius asked for him. The boy shrugged his shoulders and advanced on the table. He picked up the planchette and turned it over in his hands with a fond grin. "Well, it is really thanks to Scorpius's father. Dear Draco wasn't quite ready to let go of his wife. Instead, he has been dabbling with some obscure magic in an attempt to reach her." 

"That's not magic," interjected Al, gesturing to the board between them. "That's just a muggle game." 

"In the hands of a muggle, sure." Scorpius tossed the triangle across the table to Al who caught it awkwardly. "However, a wizard has a little more power than a muggle. He was so excited when he received his first response. It kept him coming back night after night, searching for more validation that it was actually her." 

There was a nasty gleam in Scorpius's eyes now that made Albus's stomach turn. He busied himself with looking at the planchette in his hands, using it as an excuse to turn away. Shaking his head, he tried not to think of a distraught Mr. Malfoy sitting in this study for hours on end talking to something he believed to be his wife. It was sick to imagine someone could be so cruel. 

"You used him." 

"Of course, I used him," he replied with a snort. "All I needed was enough energy to manifest and then I could possess his body. Draco would have conceded to anything as long as I promised to help him get his wife back. However, imagine my disappointment when two young wizards opened the board tonight. All that preparation waisted."

The change in tone made Albus glance up. The smug grin was gone, replaced instead by a hard glare that Al had never seen on Scorpius's face before. He held the gaze out of pure determination not to seem weak, but inside his heart was pounding rapidly. 

"Thankfully, children are even easier than adults to manipulate," he continued as the smirk returned. "Together we can find a suitable replacement."

"And I'm supposed to just go along with all this," snapped Al tossing the planchette back to the board with a clatter. Frustration boiled up in place of his fear, forcing him to clasp his shaking hands together. "Pretend like we're friends?" 

Laughing softly, Scorpius stepped around the table and sat down on its edge directly in front of him. 

"Has your father never told you about the kind of magic that keeps people in line," he asked softly. His thin lips pulled into a malicious grin as he tapped the wand against Al's knee. "The kind that sets your bones on fire? Should I give you a taste?" 

Those words alone would have been enough to terrify Albus, but hearing them coming from his best mate made it a thousand times worse. He stared back into those now cold grey eyes, searching for something, anything, familiar. Internally, he begged for the return of that sheepish grin or contagious laugh he had become so accustomed to; instead, he was met with a devilish look that turned his blood to ice. 

"You can't. Someone will hear." Al said with a small laugh that made him sound braver than he felt. He knew all about the unforgivable curses, though it was not from his father. No, Harry had done his best to shelter his children from the cruelties of the world; going as far as to stop discussions about work when they came into the room, but it had only peaked Al's interest. He had listened to enough conversations behind thin walls to know what the Cruciatus curse was and how it worked. 

Scorpius lips pulled back revealing his perfectly white teeth in a cheshire cat grin. His eyes darted to the closed doors for a brief second before returning to Al and narrowing nefariously. 

"Lets find out," he whispered. "Crucio." 

Even if he had wanted to hold back the scream that rose from his chest like a wounded animal, he wouldn't have managed. Pain engulfed his entire body, spreading like lighting through his pulsing veins. He tossed his body back against the high chair back before doubling over in an attempt to isolate the searing pain to one area; however the only thing he managed was to bash his nose against his knee. Blood gushed out of his nostril but he didn't notice amongst his all consuming anguish. 

The pain was suddenly gone. Over his pounding heart and gasping breath, Al could hear hurried footsteps in the hall. A book dropped to the floor next to him as hands rested on his shoulders. He struggled to look up but the hands kept him from rising. 

"Better play along," Scorpius whispered in his ear, amusement ringing in each word. 

The doors to the study flew open, rebounding loudly off of the wall. Albus, bleeding nose in hand, managed to look up in time to see Scorpius's father standing in the entrance, a furious look on his pale face. 

"What in Merlin's name…" 

His question trailed off as his gaze landed on the pair at the table. Anger gave way to concern, and he crossed the room in a few quick steps. 

"I'm so sorry, father," Scorpius said hitting every note of worry perfectly. "We were just messing around and I threw a book. I didn't mean to hit him in the face." 

Draco said nothing as he motioned for him to move out of the way so he could take his place at the edge of the tea table. 

"Let's see, Potter," he said calmly. 

Albus took several deep, steadying breaths, fighting to regain control of his shaking limbs. He had to admit it was a clever plan; masking the true cause of his pain with a well placed story. Removing his bloody hand, Al revealed his swollen nose. 

Draco ran a cold finger down its bridge, his lips pursed in concentration. The touch brought a grimace to Al's face, but he held steady. 

"It's broken," Draco muttered with a scathing glance at his son. "Thankfully it's not serious." Withdrawing his wand from the inside pocket of his vest, he placed it gently against Al's nose. 

Warmth spread over his skin, seeping down into his aching bone. The pain lightened to a dull throb and he crinkled his face hesitantly. The skin still felt tight, but it no longer hurt to move. 

Draco examined his work, finger sweeping across the bridge and down the sides under Al's eyes.

"You'll have some swelling," he said sitting back and staring Al in the eyes. "And some bruising under your left eye, but everything is essentially healed."

"Thanks," Al mumbled.

"Now, tell me what happened." Draco's eyes were fixed on Albus, apparently waiting for him to explain this time. 

Swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat, Al chanced a quick glance at Scorpius. The boy's worried expression changed to amusement as if easily taking off a mask. 

"It was an accident," Al said, feigning embarrassment. "I made a joke and Scorp threw a book at me. He didn't actually intend for it to hit." 

Draco raised his eyebrows and turned his attention to Scorpius who quickly put on a guilty frown and cast his eyes to the floor. He rang his hands together in a flawless imitation. For a brief minute Albus was able to forget that Voldemort was actually the one in control. 

Opening his mouth, Draco seemed on the verge of stern lecture but something else captured his attention. His eyebrows knitted together as a confused expression overtook his face. Following his gaze, Al saw exactly what had changed his demeanor. The ouija board was still lying on the table next to him. 

"Go to bed," he said, his voice straining to remain calm. 

"Father we can…" Scorpius's began to explain, but he was cut short. 

"I said bed. Now!" 

Albus quickly rose from his seat, thankful that his rubber legs supported his weight, and followed Scorpius from the study. At the door, he gave into curiosity and glanced back. Mr. Malfoy was turning the planchette over in his shaking fingers, shoulders slumped in despair. No doubt he would try to contact his wife after they left. Albus's stomach tightened at the thought of how he would feel when he didn't receive an answer.


End file.
